


wasteland, baby

by VITRI0L



Category: DreamSMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, DreamSMP - Freeform, Gen, Major Character Injury, Songfic, Tommy centric (chapter 2), Wilbur centric, but there’s respawning, no beta we die like l’manberg :[, pack it up JD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:00:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26939272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VITRI0L/pseuds/VITRI0L
Summary: Wilbur reflects on the past of L’Manberg.orWasteland, babyI'm in love, I'm in love with youAnd I love too, that love soon might endBe known in its achingShown in the shakingLately of my wasteland, baby- Hozier(Based on a recent stream. Creative liberties taken with some of the history.)
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Kudos: 61





	1. the death of all things

“Wilbur, you don’t have to do this,” Tommy says quietly, so quiet that Wil almost doesn’t hear him over the rushing of the river that separates them.

He can hear Dream sigh mix with some of the earpiece’s static, the harsh sound sending a shiver through the former President. Tommy’s blue eyes shine with the light of the sunset, and the older man can see the tearful way they shine. 

Wilbur has seen that look before. He’s seen it in many eyes, many times and it never fails to make his heart twinge with guilt and sadness. 

In his mind, the box full of L’manberg memories threatens to fall off its high, high shelf. In an effort to prevent this, Wilbur takes a deep breath, refixing his gaze on the teen across the river. But, the tears that well in those blue eyes suddenly rush all of Wil’s anger and doubt from his heart.

Without the heat of the anger and the paranoia of the self doubt, Wilbur feels the familiar weight of fatigue grip his bones. He is exhausted to his very core.

Wilbur closes his eyes, too tired to keep them open any longer.

All the memories come flooding back.

_all the fear, and the fire of the end of the world  
happens each time a boy falls in love with a girl  
happens great, happens sweet  
happily, i’m unfazed here, too_

Wil watches a younger version of himself stand in a large field near a blue lake. Young Wilbur is looking down at the water, lost deep in thought. The gentle wind stirs the water that ripples the brunet’s reflection.

There is laughter that rings clearly through the air. Wilbur turns quickly to the direction of the noise, the unfamiliarity of such a joyful sound startling him.

Three small figures run closer and closer. As they approach, Wilbur recognizes them as Tommy, Tubbo and his dear son, Fundy. They were no older than 12, with Fundy being at least 14.

 _They look so young,_ Wil catches himself thinking as the memory of the kids pass through him.

He turns to follow them, the young kids running towards Young Wilbur. His memory looks up for the water and smiles widely at the noisy company beside him.

“Wil, tell Tommy to stop messing with the bee hives,” Tubbo whines with a pout.

Young Wil chuckles and Tommy shoots the brunet boy a sharp look. Fundy snorts and turns his attention to the water.

“Yeah, well you’re at it, tell Tommy to stop being so annoying,” the ginger comments, his fox like ears twitching with amusement.

The blonde boy lets out a sudden and agressive string of curses. This doesn’t shock Wilbur, but his counterpart freezes for a moment. The young kid notices, and frowns, looking to the grass.

“Sorry, Wil,” he mumbles.

Young Wilbur just laughs loudly, and Wilbur feels an itch in the back of his mind as he stops himself from flinching again.

“I didn’t know you knew those words, Tommy,” he hears himself comment.

Tommy sends the brunet an accusatory glare. The memory continues, but the sound fades out, quickly followed by the scenery, leaving Wilbur with only guilt to accompany him.

 _They looked so young,_ Wilbur thinks again, desperately, as the memories transition.

Wil can’t remember a time, recently, where he’d seen those joyful, care free smiles on those three. Wil can’t even remember how long it’s been since he’d seen his own son.

_wasteland, baby  
i’m in love, i’m in love with you_

Memory Wilbur is now a little older and he walks quickly down a wooden path. Eyebrows furrowed, and eyes sharp, the man moves quickly and precisely.

Wilbur follows the memory a little further behind. He frowns because he remembers this day.

“Wilbur,” a loud voice calls from up the path.

Young Wil tenses, but stops anyways. Wilbur stands to the side, and feels a dull resentment pang in his chest as the man walks closer.

Dream stops and nods towards Young Wilbur. A plain white mask with two eyes and a smile stare at his counterpart as the blond tucks his hands into his green hoodie. Wilbur never liked that mask. It was unnerving, not being able to read the man’s face.

Dream glances down and Wil sees himself tighten his grip on the leather satchel he’s wearing. The leader looks back at the brunet and Wilbur mental scolds himself, even though it won’t change anything.

“Do I need to guess what’s in there, or will you tell me,” Dream asks calmly, tone flat and almost bored.

Young Wilbur frowns and clearly debates the better course of action in his mind.

“They’re potions,” he tell the truth.

Dream cocks his head slightly and Wilbur grinds his teeth together, anger and disappointment flaring as the memory continues.

“You know that it’s illegal for you to make those. You have to get them from George.”

“George isn’t the only cleric around here...” Young Wilbur snaps, a fire burning in his brown eyes.

Wilbur bites the inside of his cheek and fold his arms, folding his cloak tighter around his lithe body. 

“Really? Who else?” Dream asks plainly.

Wilbur remembers lying.

“It’s... me,” the memory says, glancing down at the wooden path.

A sword appears in the leader’s hands and Wilbur wishes that the action wouldn’t send fear racing through his viens. 

Young Wilbur looks at the sword and sneers at Dream. He is still surprised how proud his younger self was and how far that pride had driven the brunet.

“What are you going to do, kill me?” the memory sneers. “I’ll just respawn...”

The blond cuts him off.

“Hand over the bag before I think about your suggestion.”

Dream’s tone is cold and though he hates to admit it, Wilbur hates dying. Hates the way it blanks out his mind, hates how it burns his body and leaves him floating for a few minutes. It’s why his younger self relents, handing the bag to the leader, eyes cast downward.

“If you don’t like the rules, you can make your own nation,” Dream mocks cooly before adding, “Have a good day.”

The blond pearls away and Young Wilbur continues home, fist clenched and shaking in rage. 

The memory fades and Wilbur can’t help but see the sadness on Tubbo’s face for that night, when Wil had to tell him that the brunet’s pots had been confiscated. 

_I promised to teach him anyways,_ he tells himself. _Oh, the way he smiled through dinner that night._

_The way that Tommy pulled me aside before bed, thanking me softly for my offer to Tubbo._

Wilbur feels his sadness deepen as it mixes with a bittersweet desire for those simpler times. The want for those times is almost too much for the man, nostalgia threatening to drown him.

_all the things yet to come are the things that have past_

“We’ll call it Mantopia!” Tommy exclaims loudly as he lays another brick. 

Tubbo laughs from beside the teen and Eret makes a mock disgust face. Fundy just looks over to Wilbur with pleading eyes.

The warm sun beats down on them as the group continues to lay bricks. It’s been half a year since they’ve started laying down the wall, the blueprint for their sanctuary. The entrance section of the wall was the last part they needed to finish.

Wilbur shakes his head, but he’s internally smiling.

“No...” he presses a gloved finger to his temple, trying to think, “... what if we call it...”

“Manberg,” Tommy insists loudly.

“How do we make it more European?” Fundy asks.

“Uh... L’Manberg,” Wilbur states with another dull clack of a brick.

“I like it,” Tubbo comments and Eret nods in agreement.

“So, it’s Le Manberg?” Tommy asks warily, glancing doubtfully at the brunet.

“No no no. It’s L apostrophe Manberg. That makes it more French.”

Tommy frowns but makes no further argument, so Wilbur knew he’d won that. He watches Tubbo playful nudge the blond before returning his attention to the wall.

The breeze blew through the summer air and sounds of birds and other wildlife ever present in the silence.

“For L’Manberg,” Eret said softly, deep voice ringing through silence.

The men echoed his sentiment loudly, with cheer and antisipation for the future of their new nation.

_like the bonfire that burns, that all worlds in the fight fell to_

“The union of the masters of men. Together we are one. When in the course of human events it becomes necessary for one to dissolve the bonds which bind us. Disregarding of this truth is nothing short of tyranny,” Wilbur reads aloud as he writes the words in the book.

“Let’s go!” Tommy yells, pounding his fist into the table of the caravan.

“We should add a ‘We hold these truths’ part,” Tubbo suggests, leaning forward enough so Wil could see the excitement in those brown eyes in the low light of the van.

“Even though it’s American,” Eret agrees.

So Wilbur does. The book ends up begin seven pages (the sixth being blank) and in the end, Wilbur can feel the joyful mood of the van turn electric, giving the oldest with a sense of euphoria. 

“We’ve done it boys,” Wilbur exclaims, dropping his quill and leaning back in his chair.

There is a harsh knock on the van’s door. Fundy gets up to answer it and Wilbur feels proud at the sight of his son with the pastel L’Manberg jacket on.

“Uhh, Wil,” Fundy sounds unsure, coming back a moment later with a book in hand.

“Declaration of War” was the title. Wilbur frowns and opens the book.

“Sometimes you just got to kill some people sometimes, ya know. Sun Tzu. The kingdom of Dream declares war on La’Manburg. Joint resolution of Punz, Dream, and Sapnap,” Wil reads.

Tommy snorts but the mood is suddenly turned sour. Wilbur sighs, as this was something he should have seen coming. Tubbo glances fearfully between Wil and his best friend beside him.

“There was no way we could have gotten out of this without a war, huh,” Eret mutters quietly.

The oldest sighs, and looks up to his men.

“Even so, we’re not going down without a fight,” he said, voice burning with venom and determination.

Four pairs of eyes burn with a deep pride as they look to their leader.

_wasteland, baby  
i’m in love, in love with you  
and i love too, that love might end_

The peacetime lasts for three days instead of the one original decreed by Dream. They’d used this time to prepare, but it wasn’t enough.

Wilbur had put Tommy in charge as general of the 5th battalion, a decision that had plagued him for those previous peace days. The kid was 16, not nearly old enough to be in the middle of such a disaster. Yet, here he and Tubbo were, trapped because of Wilbur’s hubris and if the teens were here, they might as well do what they could.

The 5th battalion had retreated from the Battle of the Power Tower, but quickly gained the upper hand at the Battle of the Two Towers. They fired down at Dream’s men from above, causing them to retreating into the forest.

Wilbur watches from the walls of L’Manberg, both proud and guilty. Proud of his men for their brilliance in battle and guilt for his inactive role.

 _I am too old for this,_ was one of the things he remembers thinking as his men climb down from Punz’s tower (?) and rush back towards their nation.

Wilbur meets them in the entrance. Tommy has a cheek splitting grin on his face. They are all covered in dirt with the occasional splatter of blood, but it doesn’t seem to bother them. Their moral is high, as it seems they have just changed the tide of the war.

“Good job, all of you,” Wilbur tells the group, trying not to get carried away.

“What about me, Wilbur?” Tommy questions, teasing as he crossed his arms across his puffed out chest.

Wilbur gazes down at the teen and a soft smile creeps onto his face.

“Good job, Tommy,” he responds seriously, placing a gentle hand on the blond’s shoulder, giving the commander pause. “Thank you for leading my men well.”

Tommy falters, arms slipping to his sides and a shy expression replacing his usual cocky one.

“Of course,” Tommy murmurs.

The moment doesn’t last. Eret clears his throat.

“Gentlemen, we must reconvene elsewhere. I have something to show you.”

Like fools, them believe him.

•••

_Eret, you traitor, how could you, why did you, you bastard..._

Wilbur’s thoughts blind him as he waits for the pain to take over his body. A netherite sword sticks between his ribs and blood continues to stain his uniform, hot and sickly sticky.

The pain is a fire that spreads throughout his entire body before his mind goes blank.

The cries of fury from his men as the last thing he hears.

_be still, my indelible friend, you are unbreaking  
though quacking, though crazy  
that’s just wasteland, baby_

_Of course Dream rigged L’Manberg with TNT,_ Wilbur scolds himself as he and Tommy walk down the wooden path.

_“Yeah, you know what Dream? Why don’t we fight right now, why don’t we fight right now, Dream, what don’t we one versus one-!”_

_“Tommy, calm!”_

Wilbur sighs, dismay coursing through him and as they approach the bridge, he can’t help but think that this is all his fault.

Dream and his men are already stand on the other end, watching the L’Manbergians carefully. 

Tommy is no longer walking beside him. Wil turns and sees him standing, looking into the water. The remaining of his men freeze behind their general, but Wil waves them onward and the take their places on the hill beside the lake.

The brunet approaches the teen quietly. The blond sighs brokenly, and Wilbur can’t fight that pain the crushes his heart when he hears it.

“Do I shoot him Wil, or do I aim for the skies?” 

The question shatters him, and the general looks upon this kid, his brother, whom the brunet has shoved into this war. Tears burn his eyes, but Wil doesn’t know if he had enough strength to cry anyways.

“I want... I want you to do what your heart tells you to do, Tommy,” he says sincerely.

The teen looks up, despair making his eyes look glass as he realizes what he must do. 

Wilbur let’s Tommy leave and get into position. He stands between the two groups. He’d become the mediator somewhere along the line, a position that only served to mock him and all of his previous decisions.

Tubbo is not look down at the bridge. His already crying, eyes closed as if he knows the outcome of this duel.

_“Tommy, you are a complete IDOIT!” Tubbo yells, voice amplified by the small walls of the van._

_Though Wilbur stands outside with Fundy, both can still hear everything clearly._

_“Tubbo, there’s no other way and we need to win...”_

_“Yeah, we want to win, but this should all fall on you! How dare you do something so... so... so selfish!”_

_“What the fuck are you talking about, this is the absolute opposite of selfish, I-“_

_“You are going to get yourself killed, and the outcome is going to be no different except you risk being voided! Who knows if our beds are still intact after the explosion, and the only person who could get you out of the Void is Dream! You’re being fucking stupid,” Tubbo cried furiously, “And you had to make it a duel with poison?”_

_Fundy presses himself into Wil’s side, just like he used to when he was a kid. The brunet pulls his son closer, broken by the feeling of the ginger’s too thin body pressed against his own lithe figure. The warmth from the younger man is the only comfort in the general’s mind._

_Tommy would later ask the brunet to use a splash potion of poison on him in preparation. Wilbur didn’t want to, but he didn’t refuse the boy._

“Are we ready,” Wilbur asks in a monotone.

Dream nods and Tommy follows suit, showing no visible hesitation. Both wobble on their feet, Tommy trembling slightly as well.

 _He’s skinnier than Dream, that poison will effect him more,_ Wilbur worries.

“Ten paces from the middle. On ten, you may turn and fire at your openent. First one shot wins.”

The two make their way to the middle of the bridge and stand back to back. Wilbur begins to count.

“One.”

Tubbo closes his eyes, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Two.”

Punz shifts his weight from foot to foot.

“Three.”

Fundy wraps an arm around Tubbo’s shoulders and the teen leans into his side, shaking and cry silently into the dirty and worn fabric of his pastel jacket.

“Four.”

Sapnap stares down at the bridge intently with an unreadable expression.

“Five.” 

Eret fidgets with his hands, eyes unreadable behind his sunglasses, but his mouth forms into a small frown.

“Six.”

Dream tightens his grip on his bow and pulls a arrow from his hip quiver. Part of his mask is cracked, exposing a green eye that burns with focus.

“Seven.”

George has his glasses on his forehead and he gazes upon the impending duel with worry and dismay. Wilbur hates the way he can relate to the other Brit’s feelings.

“Eight, nine.”

Tommy knocks his arrow and places his left hand on the string, ready to shoot. He is no longer shaking and is instead, eerily calm.

“Ten.”

Wilbur’s heart stops as Dream and Tommy whirl around.

“I know what you want, Dream!” 

Tommy shouts that at the same time Dream lets go of the bow’s string. The arrow lodged itself into the teen’s right shoulder joint.

In Tommy’s right hand are two discs, extended towards the enemy. Wilbur heard someone yell “Tommy!” and everyone begins to process what just happens.

Wilbur is down the hill in a moment, quickly followed by Fundy and Tubbo. Tommy’s arm falls to his side and he sways, unable to stay standing. 

The teen goes into the river as Wil runs to the the spot he was previously standing. The brunet feels adrenaline course through him and he wastes no time jumping into the freezing water.

He doesn’t remember much, only resurfacing with Tommy, the water a pinkish tint. He yells at Tubbo to grab a regeneration pot, but the brunet is frozen by shock. Fundy reaches into the teens satchel instead.

Tommy is laid on the wooden bridge, soaking and unconscious. Wilbur throws his wet jacket over top the teen in a foolish attempt to keep him warm, well still keeping his shoulder wound exposed.

Fundy splashes the regen pot on the teen and Tubbo falls to his knees beside his best friend.

“I’m so sorry, Tommy,” he whispers, quietly while carding his fingers through his blond hair, “I’m not mad at you, I could never be... I should have told you...”

Wilbur glances away, unable to have his heart shatter any further. He can see George tugging on Dream’s green sweater, but the blond won’t move. 

“Wilbur...” Dream calls weakly, but Wilbur gives him an animalistic snarl.

“Don’t,” he warns dangerously.

Wilbur ignores the pain in that green eye and ignores Eret, who takes a step forward and struggles with keeping himself from rushing over to them.

He stares the other side down as Tubbo pulls the arrow out of Tommy’s shoulder and proceeds to treat the wound. He stands there, guarding his family until Tommy coughs weakly, discs still in hand.

Despite their protests, Tommy stands and faces Dream again.

“Dream, can we talk in private. Just for a second,” he asks.

Tommy secures L’Manberg’s freedom with a selfless act. He hands Dream his music discs and the leader finally grants them independence.

_and the day that we’ll watch the death of the sun  
that the cloud and the cold and those jeans you have on  
and you’ll gaze unafraid as they sob from the city roofs_

“No, Tubbo,” Tommy tells the brunet sternly, backing closer to Wilbur.

Tubbo reaches out to grab Tommy’s arm, but the blond moves quickly, pulling a shocked Wil into the wilderness. Tubbo watches them leave with dull eyes, clearly unable to find the strength to chase them.

They wander through the woods, Wilbur finally able to move with out Tommy’s lead, when Eret finds them. He doesn’t have his sunglasses on, and the brunet watches his eyes glance at the arrow in his arm.

“You guys have been betrayed,” he begins softly.

Tommy flinches at the voice, and Wilbur ignores the words that come back to him.

_“Down with the revolution, boys! It was never meant to be!”_

“Eret, we know-“

“Eret, we know we’ve been fucking betrayed,” Tommy shouts, now furious, “The audacity of you to even suggest-“

Eret butts in, sounding apologetic and a little desperate.

“You’ve been betrayed but I can help you.”

The sentence makes Wilbur very tired and he speaks before Tommy can start screaming again.

“Eret, I know you mean well, but we can’t... not now-“

There’s a loud crunching of footfalls on the forest leaves. Tommy glances around and tugs his older brother’s good arm.

“Wilbur, Wilbur we need to go,” he whispers emphatically.

“Don’t tell anyone about this,” Tommy threatens the ex L’Manbergian as the exiles take off, desperate to stay hidden.

They run through the forest before finding a cave to stay in. There, Tommy bandages Wilbur’s wound. The teen insists on going back to get supplies and Wil knows he can’t stop him so he doesn’t try.

He sits in the cave, alone with his thoughts. The pain has dulled all other emotions, and the question “why us” plagues his mind.

Tommy comes back with news that JSchlatt and his coalition government with Quackity and George had renamed L’Manberg “Manberg” because “we don’t take L’s.”

Neither get much sleep that night, betrayal and pain heavy on their minds.

Wilbur can only replay the screams of dismay from Niki, Tubbo and Eret and the booming laughter of Schlatt and Quackity until he passes out from exhaustion.

_when the stench of the sea and the absence of green  
are the death of all things seen and unseen  
not an end, but a start of all things that are left to do_

It has been months since their exile, but they’d seemed to prosper. The two live in a ravine, a place that Tommy’s dubbed Pogtopia. They have allies such as Technoblade, Dream, Tubbo and Niki and they run off of potatoes.

But as the month drags on, Wilbur’s spirits only fall lower. He doesn’t sleep, but instead longs for the early days of his nation or wonders what would have happened if Dream hadn’t declared war. The lack of sleep causes him to often hallucinate.

Sometimes he sees Niki and his son come into the ravine. Fundy hugs him and apologizes for burning the flag and Wilbur forgives him. Sometimes it’s Tubbo, who tugs on his sleeve and whispers “I’m so tired, Wil”, and cries into his side until he falls asleep.

Those same people betray him as well. Tubbo shows Schlatt to Pogtopia, and the President kills him quickly. Other times in Fundy stabbing him in the back and watching him die. 

Tommy and Techno work endlessly on construction and planning or obtaining supplies. Wilbur rarely joins them anymore, opting to stay seated, leaning against the ravine wall and letting his body push him into unconsciousness to stay alive.

•••

A few months in, Dream gives Tommy some of his personal armor and weapons, claiming to be on their side. Wilbur doesn’t trust him, just like he doesn’t trust Techno.

•••

Tubbo visits more and more often, and Wilbur can’t help but distrust the kid he’s always seen as a little brother. At first, he was drown in guilt, but the suspicion begins to seem more and more needed the more the months drag on.

•••

Wilbur promised to get Niki out of Manberg, but had yet to follow through. Tommy reminded him once and when the brunet snapped at him, the teen never brought it up again.

•••

Schlatt announces the Manberg Day festival as Tommy and Wil watch from the tower. 

“Are we the bad guys, Tommy,” Wilbur asks as they walk back to Pogtopia.

When the teen doesn’t respond, he continues.

“The festival seems like... it seems friendly of Schlatt to do something like that. And... he’s a democratically elected leader of a coalition government which was legal... and we’re trying to take him down. Are we the villains?”

He turns to face his right hand man.

“Am I the villain in your history?”

Wilbur swears that he’d never seen Tommy look so drained. The young man was usually the most fiery, always passionate and always intense. Now, the dark crescents under his eyes deepened and his eyes held no fire in them.

“No, Wilbur,” he whispered.

If Wilbur had been in his right mind, he would have felt sorry for Tommy and dropped the subject. But, the doubt and the months of suffering keep the thoughts in his mind and the brunet presses further.

“Y’know, we’ve lost Manberg twice already,” he says, as the cross the cobblestone bridge, “And I was wondering, is it worth it? Why are we fighting to get back?”

Tommy doesn’t answer, his soft footsteps are the only thing that lets Wilbur know he’s still there. 

“I say... I say, if we can’t have Manberg, then no one can.”

Tommy stops and Wil crosses the bridge without him, now standing by the cave to Pogtopia, leaving the teen on the other side.

“At the festival, we should rig the ground to explode,” Wilbur says with a small smile.

“Wilbur, what about all the people who care about us?” Tommy demanded, gesturing wildly in Manberg’s direction. “Tubbo and...”

At the name, Wilbur frowns, angry that Tommy is being so blind. How could he not see, how could he not understand that people lie? It was frustrating and rather childish of the teen. Tommy had gone through the war just like Wil, how could he still trust anyone else??

“Tubbo?!” he exclaims, whirling to look at Tommy on the bridge. “Do you think he cares about you. Tubbo would drop you at the drop of a hat-“

“What are you saying?!” Tommy shouts loudly.

“I want to burn that place to the FUCKING GROUND!”

Tommy’s mouth falls open in shock before he recovers.

“Are you fucking crazy, Wilbur?!”

Wilbur sighs and reaches a hand into his cloak. He pulls out an earpiece and puts it in.

“Dream, I want to speak with you. Come to Pogtopia,” he says calmly.

“And, Tommy, there’s a reason you aren’t president and you never will be.”

_wasteland, baby  
i’m in love, in love with you_

The memories are gone and Wilbur opens his eyes again. A hurricane of emotions tumble through his mind, and his heart races.

He opens his eyes again, Tommy still standing across the river. The sun dips lower and lower, but Wilbur’s resolve remains.

 _They pain they’ve caused me. They will pay_ , he tells himself. 

“Dream, are you almost here?” he asks.

“No, Dream, don’t come,” Tommy demands.

As if on cue, the blond man appears from the tree line beside Wilbur with a chest. Tommy holds his head in his hands as Dream places it next to the man.

“I’m sorry, Tommy,” the masked man says, “but... you know how I feel about Schlatt.”

Wilbur didn’t need to look in the chest to know that it was TNT. Dream was very omnipresent, he knew Wilbur wanted.

“Wilbur,” Tommy says softly, “If this is what you think will work, I won’t stop you. But, I don’t agree with this.”

Wilbur wasn’t so far gone that he couldn’t realize that he didn’t deserve Tommy’s loyalty. He says nothing, however, just nods. He doesn’t want the guilt that would accompany his acknowledgement of his ever faithful right hand man.

_They will pay._

The thought lifts a weight of his chest, and it’s the best Wilbur has felt in ages.


	2. not the end, but the start of all things that are left to do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> just my personal predictions of the end of Tommy’s character’s arc
> 
> enjoy :)

Tubbo claps Tommy on the back as they stand behind stage. Tommy’s eyes crinkle and he gives his best friend a joyous smile.

“You got this, big man,” the brunet tells him and Tommy laughs.

“Thank you, Tubbo,” he response is genuine.

They are now 18, young adults who have been through too much in their short lives. They haven’t been kids for a long time, but now it’s official. Tommy honestly thought they would it make it this far, but life is full of surprises.

Tommy adjusts his uniform for the hundredth time, getting used to the wool of the navy jacket and the feel of the golden shoulder plates.

Tubbo smiles.

“Let’s do this,” he says and Tommy nods.

The blond walks onto the podium, followed quickly by Tubbo. The lights are warm and the crowd below cheers. Tommy takes his place at the microphone and Tubbo stands beside him, a little of to the side.

An electric feeling sparks his nerves and Tommy can’t help but laugh out of pure joy. 

In the crowd below, Fundy and Niki gaze up at him with the same amount of joy, if not more. Fundy’s tail swishes side to side and Niki grins from ear to ear. Both are back in their uniforms and the sight makes Tommy’s heart swell.

Eret is there too. Tommy has yet to accept the man into the country, but he no longer wears the robe and crown that he had when he was the duke of Dream’s kingdom. He doesn’t have his sunglasses on and he gives Tommy a nod when his gaze falls upon the older man. 

Dream, Techno and the rest of the citizens of the kingdom sit behind the L’Manbergians. They watch with mostly unreadable expressions, but that is fine by Tommy. He wouldn’t let them ruin this special day.

“Hey, guys,” Tommy says into the microphone, feeling butterflies in his stomach.

“Today is the inauguration of the new President and Vice President of L’Manberg,” Tommy emphasizes with a grin.

His people smile back at him.

“I would like to thank the citizens of L’Manberg, and everyone else who voted, for their kindness in voting me into office. After everything that this country had gone through, we need to return this place to its former glory and make it an even better sanctuary than it was before.”

Tommy clears his throat, careful not to begin speaking too quickly. He is afraid of stumbling over his words in such an important speech.

“I am here to carry on the legacy that the former President Wilbur Soot has left,” he states loudly.

The crowd is deathly silent at mention of the man’s name. Tommy understands, it’s a new scar that has yet had time to heal, but he isn’t going to dance around the bad memories. He’s going to focus on the good ones. 

“We mustn’t only judge Wilbur by the actions that defined him when he was at his lowest, but we must remember the fantastic things he’d done for us. For L’Manberg. So, my first decree as President is to restore the boundaries. They needn’t be walls, but the barriers will still stand.” 

A murmur goes through the crowd. Tommy glances over at Tubbo, who grins and gives him a small thumbs up.

“On top of the that, I wish to restore the name ‘L’Manberg’” Tommy continues, “As well as rebuild all of the structures that were demolished under the Schlatt administration.”

Niki and Fundy are exchanging relieved looks. Tommy sighs, a smile still on his face.

“And now, my Vice President has a few words he’d like to say.”

Tommy steps away from the mic, switching places with Tubbo. The loud applause for his best friends causes pride to well in his heart.

“As your Vice President, I promise to uphold the values of this great nation and to preserve the legacy we’ve fought so hard to keep,” Tubbo tells the crowd loudly, “I will work close with Tommy and together we will propel L’Manberg into the future!”

Niki and Fundy yell things like “hooray” and “way to go” from the crowd. Eret claps loudly. Techno nods and Dream smiles from beneath his mask. 

“For L’Manberg!” Tubbo shouts.

•••

“That went much better than I was expecting, to be honest,” Tommy says as the step off the podium and climb down the hill.

Tubbo laughs happily. 

“Yeah, same. But, I’m proud of us, y’know,” he says.

Tommy knows.

“Listen, Tubbo, I got to...” Tommy begins as they approach Niki and Fundy.

“Yeah, I know. Go ahead,” Tubbo tells him softly.

“Are- are you sure you don’t want to come,” Tommy offers as the stop as the bottom of the hill.

Tubbo’s eyes glisten in the moonlight as he nods sadly. 

“I’m sure... it’s just too much right now.”

“Ok,” Tommy whispers.

They part and Tommy walks into a chattering crowd. He glances around, peering and searching. People smile or nod as he passes. The only people who don’t are Sapnap and George. Sapnap just rolls his eyes and George crosses his arms.

The reactions might have bothered Tommy another time, but he just waves as he approaches.

“Hey,” he begins, still looking around, “have either of you seen Dream?”

“Why?” Sapnap asks.

“Yeah,” was George’s answer.

“Where is he? I need to speak to him,” Tommy asks politely.

“I’m right here, Mr. President,” a voice says playfully from behind him.

Tommy turns and is shocked to to be faced with a maskless Dream. His blond hair falls into his bright green eyes, and his tan cheeks are dotted with freckles. He grins at the younger man.

“Hello, Dream,” Tommy greets cordially, sticking a hand out for the man to shake.

Dream just laughs and places a gentle hand on his shoulders. 

“There’s no need to be so formal,” he teases and Tommy lets his hand fall too his side. 

“Yeah, well... I am an adult now. And a President, too,” Tommy mutters sheepishly.

“Dream, what’s Tommy want?” George asks, sounding a little impatient.

“Tommy’s an adult, he can speak for himself,” Dream informs his friends, hand moving from Tommy’s shoulder to his hoodie pocket.

Tommy steps back a little so he could face the members of the Dream Team.

“I’m here to ask Dream if he can take me to the King’s Prison,” Tommy explains.

Sapnap raises and eyebrow and George snorts.

“Why’d you want to go there. It’s not very interesting,” George tells him in a bored tone.

Tommy can’t resist getting a jab in at the other.

“Of course you’d know, George. You spent a good week there, didn’t you?”

The brunet scowls, eyes burning behind his clout goggles.

“I was found not guilty at my trial, Tommy,” he says through gritted teeth.

Tommy just shrugs playfully with his usual cocky grin on his face.

“That’s just cus Dream likes you too much.”

George blushes at the comment before looking rather pissed off. Tommy finds that he enjoyed how normal teasing them felt.

“Mans wasn’t even on the jury...” Sapnap informs him.

Dream, who had been trying to contain his laughter, wheezes and laughs loudly. George and Sapnap quickly turn their attention to their leader and Tommy feels laughter bubble up in his throat.

“Guys, stop. Tommy’s not serious,” Dream tells them.

“He’s right,” Tommy agrees.

“George, I forgive you, you know. For your part in the wars and in Swag2020. I forgive you too, Sapnap,” Tommy says with the sincerity of someone much older than him.

“Thanks, Tommy,” Sapnap says carefully, still sounding rather unsure.

“You sound like Wilbur,” George tells him quietly, his gaze flicking over the blond’s uniform.

“Speaking of Wilbur,” Tommy insists, look expectantly to the blond.

“Alright, alright,” Dream sighs, but his still smiling, “Let’s go, Tommy. I’ll be back, guys.”

Dream leads Tommy up the sky bridge, and Tommy marvels at the way the blond’s kingdom looks from above. Happiness burns through him when he caught a glimpse of L’Manberg, the original flag flying in its boundaries.

King’s Prison is the prison located near King’s Court in the sky of Dream’s kingdom. After the fall of Schlatt, he along with Quackity and George were held there. Schlatt was the first on trail, found guilty and banned. George was found not guilty and Quackity’s trial was in a few days.

Wilbur was also being held there, but he isn’t a citizen of Dream’s kingdom. The former President could only be tried in L’Manberg, but would stay in King’s Prison until Tommy could organize a trail.

As they approach the cobblestone building, unpleasant memories nag at Tommy’s mind. He can’t help but remember trying to talk Wilbur down at the Manberg Festival. The way Wilbur’s hand constantly hovered over the detenation button, and the unhinged, dangerous look in those dull brown eyes. 

That day haunts Tommy, and it has become one of his worst nightmares, in the plethora horrid nightmares he has based on life experiences. When he dreams of Wilbur, the blond usual spends the entire night awake, Tubbo sitting and talking with him. Occasionally, the brunet will offer a spot in his bed, just like they would do during the war. Tommy could never find it in him to refuse his best friend anyways.

His heart pounds as Dream leads him into cell block A. The prison has more than enough cells for everyone in the kingdom and L’Manberg to be held there, and Tommy finds the detail a little unnerving.

The cold stone makes their footsteps louder as they walk the long balcony. All the cells are dark behind the bars, no one to occupy them. Tommy lets his gaze wander, squinting in the low light the the prison’s lanterns provide.

Dream stops at the last cell and nods toward it. Tommy stands in front of the cell before it, staying out of view for now.

“He’s in there,” Dream says plainly, “Don’t expect much. He hasn’t spoken a word since he’s been here.”

Tommy nods, not trusting himself to speak. Dream pulls a key ring from his sweater, and toss it to the blond, who nearly drops them. He recovers at the last moment, frowning at Dream’s grin. 

“The keys for the block doors, and the main one too. Lock up when your done.”

With that, he’s gone out the metal door behind him. It shuts with a loud bang, leaving Tommy standing alone in the silence of the block.

He takes a deep breath, steeling his mind and stepping in front of the last cell bars.

The cells is a dark as the other, but there is a figure in the darkness. He’s in the furthest corner, knees pulled to his chest and face buried in the arms that hug his legs. Dark hair spills over his arms, hiding all identifying features. The only way Tommy can tell that it’s Wilbur is the dark cloak that shields his body.

“Wil...” Tommy whispers softly.

There is no response from the man, but Tommy could have sworn that there was a slight flinch when he spoke.

Tommy thought he was going to be anger upon seeing Wilbur. This man was like a brother to him, and he choose to throw it all away in, giving into the pain that plagued him, that plagued all of them. There was a spark of anger in his chest, but the President could only feel a deep sadness and a warm love that boils his blood.

“We got it back, Wil,” Tommy whispers, approaching the bars, “It’s L’Manberg. We got it back.”

The head tilts up and an eye peers back at him. Tommy feels his breath catch, but there is no hate in those irises. Just a haunting pain mixed with a kind of curiosity.

Tommy places the key ring into his pocket and sits down, knees pressed against the metal between them, hands gripping the bars for support.

“Now... now Tubbo and I- we’re leading the country. Tubbo’s my Vice President and today is our inauguration, we just got into office...” 

Tommy takes a pause in an effort to stop his rambling. His vision is watery from the stubborn tears that burn his eyes. Wilbur lifts his head a little more, as if silently willing him to continue.

“We want to continue your legacy,” Tommy tells him, “We are going to make L’Manberg into the country you would have wanted. One that you can be proud of. Me, Tubbo, Niki, and Fundy, we’re... we’re gonna fix it. I promise you that.”

Tommy lets his tone grow confident on the last two lines because he believes it. And he wants Wilbur to believe it too.

Maybe he already does. The brunet suddenly stumbles to his feet and falls in front of Tommy. It surprises the blond, but he doesn’t flinch away from the other.

Wilbur grasps the bars right above where Tommy’s hands are placed and he presses his forehead to the metal.

Tommy can now see the tears racing down the older man’s cheeks, and the joy in those usually dull eyes. Wil is smiling.

“Tommy,” he croaks, voice hoarse from not being used, but Tommy can still hear the bittersweet elation in his tone.

“Thank you,” he says, “my brother. Mr. President.”

Tommy places his hands on top of Wilbur’s, unconsciously smiling at the warmth they emit.

“Of course, Wil.”

“I’m sorry,” his voice breaks and Tommy sighs.

“I know, big man.”

“Tommy...” Wilbur eyes search his desperately, pain accompanying the elation in the brown depths.

Tommy smiles softly at the man he still idolizes (though he’d never admit it), and gives his hands a light squeeze.

“It’s going to be ok. Everything will be ok, Wilbur.”

And for once, Tommy believes it.


End file.
